Chaper 4 – Break up

"Cut it off Chloe", Max scolded as I had tried to yank her arm. She seemed so pissed off lately, what was wrong?

"Max are you okay?"

"Never been better", she gritted her teeth.

"Alright, alright", I threw my hands up in the air.

She had this whole negativity going on, and it lasted for weeks.

But I stuck around: all for her.

But one day it all snapped, as I saw Max run out crying from Mr. Jefferson's class. I called out for her, but she didn't stop. I tried to run after her, my hands around her arm:
she ripped herself out of my grip and shut me out. She left me in the middle of the corridor, and I couldn't help but kick in a locker. The hit hurt like hell, but at least it made me feel something.

Kate walked up to me.
Sometimes eyes can speak louder than a thousand words.

"Don't take it too personal Chloe… She's just stressed out because of school".

"Not personal? What, she talked to you?"

Her fear confirmed my thoughts.

"Ha, right. Of course, she'd tell you and not me." With my temper on fleek, I left, letting out a big growl as I exited the school.

I remember the time she would just look at me, and look and look and look, and just smile. I'd ask her why, and she would answer "Because I'm here with you".

But days turned into weeks and weeks, and the time kept on swishing by: until I no longer felt like going on like this.

"Max, I don't think I can do this anymore. You've shut me out. I can't be with you when you're like this."

"Stop. Just stop." She had this strange look I couldn't recognize.

"If you can't be with me anymore – I understand. You think I'm a useless piece of shit, you just-"

"Max! No! That's not true! What the fuck?!"

"Quit the bullshit Chloe. I know you. And I wish today that I didn't."

"You're hurting me, Max. I love you—but I can't be with you when you're like this."

She was shaking.

"Bullshit! Fuck this, FUCK YOU! All you ever talk about is how sad or depressed you are. You never loved me- and I guess I should be happy about it—because you're a horrible person Chloe. I wish I hadn't ever met you."
"You know what? This's so low. If you're going to act all psycho, then fuck off. I have nothing else to say to you if you won't listen."

"Yeah, to hell with you Chloe Price, and all the time I've spent wasting on you."

Wasted time. What a gut punch. And there it was again, Max wearing her mask of fury and- the face of a stranger. The corner of her eyes was itching red, as her eyes all blank, and she left: her silhouette blended into one with the woods.

I didn't shout out for her.
I didn't try to catch her.
I let her walk.
If there hadn't been that many "I's", maybe she wouldn't have left in first place.

Maybe she would have been alive today.

Turns out, you can't throw all your feelings unto a person, all the time, non-stop.

Because that's why they leave: when one day it becomes too much for them.

I blamed myself for what had happened that very night, because I hadn't been there for her.

I had been too self involved, to notice, that she was hurting too. I just assumed she had grown tired of me, of our relationship: not the relationship to the world.

I guess we all hurt, every now and then: but the choice is up to us, to admit that we're hurting out loud or not. I truly wished Max hadn't shut herself in. She could have gotten help: the kind of help I decided to get for the both of us.

I stood in front of the podium, gazing over the public, standing beside my best friend. I saw how people looked oddly at my outfit, torn jeans, cracks in the arms of my shirt...

"Yes, I know that I may not wear the typical ironed grieving outfit, but at least I'm wearing black, right folks?" No one smiled, but I guess I had that coming, since this was a funeral after all.

"So, I'm standing here, because Max parents asked me to give a speech, because I've known Max since we were kids. So, I guess you all will have to bare with me 'til I'm done." As soon as I had spoken the first word, it had been too late to back down.

"Well, let's make it clear: I won't be standing up here, talking about the obvious, like Max was a brilliant photographer or what a great friend… or lover she was." I heard someone clear their throat.

"There doesn't go a day by where I'm not mad at her for what she did. I keep thinking: if she would just have said something. If she would have just warned me, or something. Maybe she did do that, but I was too blind to see it. I'm not sure if I will ever forgive myself for not noticing, for not knowing, how much pain she was in." My tongue felt silent, together with my lips.

"The truth is… no. The fact is that Max suffered from an illness. Now, I don't say that it was entirely the illness that killed her: but a mix of her own demons and genetics. But no matter how much I will dwell on her choice of action: not being able to forget her, I understand. I know what it's like to feel worthless and out of place, feeling as if I don't fit in this world we were born to take part in. What Max did: was one of the worst things that has ever happened in my life, like loosing my dad. Maybe she thought that the pain would go away when she did what she did. And somehow it did: by inflicting it unto others. I won't ever forgive her for doing what she did. And I've come to realize that I don't ever want to put anyone through what she did. So, I've decided that I'd live for the both of us." I placed my fist unto my chest.

"How cheesy it may sound: Max Caulfield, you'll be in my heart forever."

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